Tag Archives: Lindsey Sanchez

Rabbit Skin

The rabbit was hiding, shivering under the patio steps. It was Easter Sunday, and we were already late for church. The day before I had trimmed the mimosa tree in the backyard, which had blossomed unseasonably early, and there was … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | 1 Comment

Sunset

It was Elaine’s 70th birthday, but she nearly forgot all about it. That’s how it is, eventually. It’s easier to forget than you’d think. But she remembered before it was too late, in the early afternoon, hours before sunset. So … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment

His Birthday

Old hands. I’ve always been fascinated by the hands of old people, especially old men who have worked hard for their entire lives. Of all the hands in the world, those are my favorites. The hands resting on the table … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment